


Voice

by shatteredpetal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredpetal/pseuds/shatteredpetal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has waited for a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voice

'Hello, darling.'

She sighs, rolls her eyes, but a smile reaches her lips. There are many names he has called her. Once he even had the audacity to name her "baby", but he instantly regretted it. Even  _he_  felt odd saying such a sappy name. It isn't in his character; Harry isn't one for pet names to begin with, but he does like to tease.

'Are you all right?'

'Yes, I'm better than I was,' she says, still smiling weakly. Her gaze drops to the quilt. 'I miss you, Harry.'

A chuckle. 'I miss  _you_. I hope––' Then he groans in defeat. She swallows, expression softening, clinging to the phone. She wants him to speak, to let it all out. '––I hope you sometimes think about me.'

'Of course...'

'Because I think about you... all the time. I don't think I can survive this illness––'

'No,' she says, clenching a fist. She sits upright in bed, hears her heartbeat pound in her ears. 'Please don't speak that way. You  _can_  win this. You–– You're an amazing man, Harry, you can't–– I can't imagine you dying.'

There is a long pause. She jars her teeth, waiting, waiting for his voice, his deep, soothing voice. A voice she has grown to love, and adore. A voice which comforts and soothes her, reassures her when she suffers nightmares, and monsters. Suffers plagues of the past.

His voice tells her the past is over. The Lord will never return.

'Come home,' she whispers, 'I want you to come home,' now her voice is begging, and she struggles to fight against the tears.

To her relief, he doesn't gasp, he doesn't panic. Instead he chuckles again, and she can feel his green eyes on her, his soft gaze, and wonderful voice. 'I'll be with you as soon as I can, Hermione. You know that.'

Sunlight pours in through the curtains, and she imagines him close, his strong arms holding her, and he's smiling, grinning even. He's so deliriously happy it makes her want to cry. She sighs again, this time in content, and rests a hand at her swelled stomach.

Then she remembers his response to when she informed him of her pregnancy. She knows this man inside and out, she knows him so  _well_ , and so she expects him to be overjoyed. Yet the amount of bliss which glowed from his face, the amount of excitement which bounced off him–– she was surprised by his enthusiasm. No man can be more perfect.

Day after day, they talk, and joke about their child. What he or she will look like, whether they will have Harry's eyes or Hermione's bushy hair. It's a mystery the two are unable to solve, but they constantly attempt the challenge. They have always been stubborn and curious. Too curious.

'I wish you could see how big I am now,' she snorts, 'I'm so big.'

'I wish I could have you with me. If you were with me right now, I'd hold you so tight, I'd have you in my arms and I'd just hold you. That's all I really want.'

'Harry...'

She wants that too. She wants him so much.

A longer pause this time, as if he is having trouble with what to say next. Harry hesitates, she hears him breathe on the other end, she can hear him  _breathe_  and sigh and then there's another voice, in the background. It's soft and muffled, sympathetic.

Harry says something, and his voice is no longer filled with affection and love. Now, she hears sadness and a horrific longing. He's upset.

And then she hears him clearly again, and the sadness is only intensified. 'I have to go. The doctor says if I don't rest up, this cancer will kill me eventually.' An exhale. 'I'll see you soon. Wait for me.'

'I am...'

'Hermione, I love you. I really do.' Before she can respond, he hangs up the phone and she is left alone, staring at the wall, the phone still pressed to her ear.

Then she falls back onto the pillow, scrunches her eyes closed and rolls onto her side. Images of his face flicker into her mind, his smile, his gorgeous green eyes, his jet black hair. The way he looks at her, how much he adores her, and needs her.

Hermione sniffs, and opens her eyes.

_She has waited for a very long time._

The answer phone  _beeps_  once, and she repeats the message, listens to his voice again.

'Hello, darling.'

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Harry and Hermione don't get together in the series (which doesn't make a great deal of sense to me), but this is an AU in which they did, and one of the most natural of diseases pries the two apart. This is the second Harry Potter fanfiction I've written, so I feel quite insecure about publishing it. I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks!


End file.
